Will you be my friend?

En un lugar de México, de cuyo nombre no puedo acordarme

I don’t really need any new friends. So don’t get your hopes up.

I was just reminiscing. I’m surprised at how many times I heard “Will you be my friend?” when I was little. Making friends was so much easier and uncomplicated back then. Religion or politics didn’t complicate things back then. Basically, if you offered me candy, we would become lifelong friends. Until the candy was gone.

But where have all those prospective friends gone now that I’m older and wiser? Not that I’m looking for new friends, but I sure do miss getting free candy. So if you’re considering me as a friend, keep in mind that I may not be a very good friend. Be forewarned that I’m very defensive when meeting strangers. And I don’t take compliments well. They’ll make me suspicious of your motives. If you’re nice to me, you must want something in return. If you’re smoker, I will not go outside with you while you smoke. I don’t smoke because I never made friends with smokers. I made friends with candy eaters. And don’t talk to me about your problems. I’ll just pretend to listen to you and occasionally say, “Really!” and “You’re kidding, right?” just to let you think that I’m really concerned about your insignificant life. When we say good-bye, I’ll insist that we have to get together real soon. And I will be persistent because the more persistent I am, the less likely you will be to call me.

Will you be my friend?